


Trying something new; pastel blue, I think quite suites you

by jomipay



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Crowley (Good Omens), and then they get up to some shenanigans, just a demon buying his eternal love some lingerie, this was fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 05:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jomipay/pseuds/jomipay
Summary: When Aziraphale shows an interest in lingerie, Crowley decides to surprise him with a gift.If you've seen Chrizwho 's great Aziraphale in lingerie art on tumblr, this was inspired by that.





	Trying something new; pastel blue, I think quite suites you

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by chrizwho 's lovely Aziraphale in lingerie artwork that is absolutely life affirming. I love these two idiots.

The store Crowley walks into is pleasant enough. The lights are dim except for the bright lights that shine above displays. It’s a cozy little shop, though shop doesn’t feel like quite the right word—boutique perhaps. The boutique’s colors are mostly reds and blacks, while the items the boutique sells are in a plethora of colors all around. Crowley feels a bit overwhelmed, if he’s being honest. He’d put the idea in the shop attendants’ heads that he knew exactly what he was doing and therefore didn’t need any help at all when he’d entered. He’d also made sure that everyone thought it was perfectly normal to be wearing sunglasses indoors in dim lighting whilst shopping for lingerie. He’s gotten himself lingerie before, sure, knows his way around these kinds of things, but he’s never done it for anyone else. 

He recalls walking down Carnaby with Aziraphale on his arm, chatting idly after dinner. They’d passed a lingerie shop with mannequins displaying their wares in the windows. Aziraphale had sighed wistfully. Crowley had looked down at him with surprise, “What?” he’d asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Aziraphale squeezed his arm where he’d been holding it. 

Crowley smiled down at him with the kind of delicate, earnest, and loving smile that Aziraphale knew he was the only one to ever see. 

“Oh, I just think, it might be nice, is all.” Azirphale shrugged, gazing at the display.

Crowley looked at the mannequins and then back to Aziraphale’s lightly blushing face. Crowley raised the arm Aziraphale wasn’t holding and used it to brush one of his pink cheeks.  
“It is nice.” Crowley confirmed. 

Aziraphale’s mouth had dropped open just the tiniest bit before his lips twisted up into a coy little smile.

“Feels a bit like you’re a present. All wrapped up and pretty.” Crowley shrugged and nuzzled Azirphale’s head. Crowley had always liked lingerie. Humans were so creative; the garments could be so complex and interesting. The way people looked at him wearing it too, so hungry, so ready to give in to his temptation, to his demonic wiles. He’d always taken a little selfish satisfaction in the fact that humans found his corporation worthy of that kind of adoration. It was all hollow though, compared to the way Crowley could imagine Aziraphale looking at him under similar circumstances. He suppressed a shudder. He liked the way he felt wearing it, too. Good quality lingerie was always so soft and silky and the rub of it against your skin was delicious. Aziraphale would love that, the softness, the slide of it on his skin. Crowley formed his plan then and there, which is how he’s wound up frowning to himself in a little lingerie store on a Tuesday afternoon.

He shuffles his weight from one snake skin booted foot to the other before removing the illusion of his needlessness from a rather unintimidating looking young woman. She shakes her head back and forth and then looks at him as if she’s just seen him for the first time. She walks dutifully over to him with a polite smile on her heart shaped face. 

“Hi sir, can I help you find anything?” She swipes a hand over her face to get her bangs out of her eyes. Crowley reads her name, “NATALIA” off the little tag on her shirt.  
“Yeah, s’pose I could use a bit of help, actually.” Crowley says it casually as if he hadn’t just summoned her over to him for that exact purpose.

“Are you shopping for a partner?” Natalia inquires. 

Crowley nods his head once in the affirmative, “I am, yes.”

“And what does your partner like?

“Dunno—I mean, I’ve gotten them loads of gifts—just never gotten them this kind of gift before.” He shrugs his shoulders.

Natalia nods, understanding, she turns surveying the contents of the shop carefully. “Well, what’s their style normally, what kinds of things do they like?”  
The fact that she hasn’t just assumed the gender of Crowley’s partner does not go unnoticed by him and he makes sure she’ll miraculously find an extra 20 quid in the pocket of her coat when she puts it on. 

Crowley thinks about her question for a moment. He remembers Aziraphale’s ridiculous Bastille attire, the outfit that’d almost gotten his moronic head chopped off. 

“Frills.” Crowley responds, still thinking about the incident, and how Aziraphale had kept the lace frilled shirt even after he’d miracled himself into a new, more suitable outfit. “And lace.”  
“Yeah, frills and lace, and…tartan—but let’s not go there.” Crowley crunches his lips up at the mention of Aziraphale’s propensity for tartan. 

Natalia cocks a smile and laughs a bit to herself, taking in Crowley’s black attire and reconciling it with the description of his partner she’s just been given. “Yeah, I’ve got one of those, my girlfriend’s a big fan of lacey things. The frillier the better. Oh, and bows, she loves bows.” Natalia shakes her head.

“Do you think yours would like bows?” 

Crowley decides he’s safe to divulge, “Oh, yeah, probably, he wears a bowtie every day, probably be delighted with bows.”  
“My girlfriend wears a bow in her hair every day.” Natalia gives him a sympathetic look, telling him she understands his pain.  
She walks over to a display, thinking. Crowley follows. She fingers a deep purple and sheer camisole.  
“What about colors? Bright colors?” she trails off. 

Crowley shakes his head, “Nah, pastels are really more his thing.”

Natalia nods and walks over to a different part of the store, to an assortment of garments in all manner of pastel colors.  
“What does yours like to do for fun?” she rifles through a rack of camisoles, searching for something  
“Uhh, well he spends a fair bit of time reading.” Crowley can’t help the tone his voice takes on the last word, he backtracks when Natalia raises a dark and questioning eyebrow at him.  
“Not that reading’s a bad hobby, he just has so many bloody books, and he’s so fussy about them.” Crowley waves his hands erratically, trying to convey the enormity of the situation to her.  
“Yeah, mine likes to knit. She keeps all this yarn around, some of it she’s never used, but she keeps it all nice and organized-- in a way that makes no sense, mind you—and she gets miffed if anyone else messes with it.” Natalia releases a long-suffering sigh that Crowley can’t help but sympathize with.

Natalia plucks several items off the rack and lays them on a table behind them. Crowley seizes on one immediately.  
“That one will do.” He points at the camisole in question, a pastel blue with a flowing sheer bottom and lacy cups with a pink bow between them. The sheer bottom has got layers of frills that Crowley rolls between his fingers. The fabric is soft, exquisitely so.  
Natalia looks proud of herself. She should, Crowley thinks, the thing is bloody perfect.  
“Let’s pick out a matching bottom set, yeah?” Natalia starts leaning over tables and rifling through some of the drawers underneath. A lightbulb seems to go off as her face illuminates suddenly with an idea.  
“Do you think he’d like a garter? With some stockings?”  
Crowley considers for a few moments. “It’s completely unnecessary and overcomplicated and he’ll love it, the fussy bastard.”  
Natalia crooks her lips up in a knowing smile and sets herself to work finding everything she needs.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crowley and Aziraphale have dinner that night at a new Thai place not far from Crowley’s flat. It wasn’t very far away so they’d walked to dinner. They ambled back to Crowley’s flat with his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders and Aziraphale’s arm around his waist. The doorman knows Aziraphale now, and greets him as they enter the building. 

“Evening, then, Mr. Fell, Mr. Crowley,”

“Gonna have an early evening, have a nice one,” Crowley responds looking over his shoulder to give the doorman a not-quite smile. 

Crowley could barely contain himself on the lift ride up. He was excited, he was delirious, he was nervous. He opens the door to the flat and sucks in a breath.  
Aziraphale takes his coat off and hangs it on the rack that existed just for the sake of Aziraphale having some place to hang it at Crowley’s. 

Crowley keeps his glasses on, seeking a place to hide his inner turmoil. Crowley summons all of his composure, reassuring himself that Aziraphale would like his present, that everything was going to be just fine. He was suave, sleek, charm personified and he could pull this off smoothly. 

Crowley pours them both a glass of wine in the kitchen with shaking hands. Aziraphale sat down on a couch who’s existence was owed to Aziraphale’s dissatisfaction with Crowley’s old one. Crowley stands before him, sipping his wine, positively vibrating with nervous energy. Azirphale pats the cushion next to him. Crowleys shakes his head and walks around behind Aziraphale. He puts his arms around him and nuzzles his face into the nape of Aziraphale’s neck. He brings his lips to his ear, murmurs, “I’ve got something for you.” 

Crowley can feel the heat as Aziraphale flushes.

Crowley sucks the lobe of the ear into his mouth and worries it between his teeth before wetly releasing it. “Would you like to see what it is?” He breathes hotly onto Aziraphale’s ear. The angel’s eyes had fluttered closed but he opens them now and turns his head to look at Crowley and nods, eyes darting down to gaze at the demon’s lips.  
“Stay.” He breathes into Aziraphale’s ear. 

He channels his self-control and walks deliberately, gracefully, in a way he hopes is oozing Mr. Suave charm, to his bedroom to retrieve his gift. 

Crowley’s slow and deliberate manner dissipates as soon as he’s in the room and he seizes the unassuming chalky-pink bag from under his bed. He runs a hand through his hair and steals himself, putting his calm and collected persona solidly back in place as he sidles back out to Aziraphale. 

He places the bag into Aziraphale’s hands and holds his breath as the angel rustles through the tissue paper. Aziraphale gasps as he pulls out the first garment, the lightest-sky-blue camisole. His eyes are wide as he seeks out Crowley’s gaze. Crowley removes his glasses, tossing them on the coffee table. 

His eyes betray his nerves, he knows, but Aziraphale likes to see them. “Do you like it?” Crowley’s voice is a whisper. 

“Oh, Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaims, eyes welling up. He nods furiously. 

“I just thought you might—that you, uh,” Crowley rubs the back of his neck, unscrambling the words in his mouth into a coherent sentence. “I thought you might…want to try?”  
Aziraphale nods, smiling at him. He gestures for Crowley to come here, and Crowley does, plopping himself heavily onto the couch next to him. Aziraphale pulls him into a warm embrace, nuzzling into his neck. “I love it, oh, I love it so much, my dear.” 

Crowley relaxes, his whole body melting into the couch and Aziraphale. “There’s more in the bag.” Crowley jabs his thumb in the direction of the bag. He watches as Aziraphale digs out the underwear of the same color, trimmed with a pink lace ruffle and a garter belt of the same color with little pink bows over the straps. Aziraphale runs his hands over the soft fabric of the pastel blue stockings, his expression one of wonder. 

“You don’t have to right now—obviously, I mean—You don’t even have to, with me…” Crowley trails off, feeling useless. Aziraphale’s head snaps up to look at Crowley. “No, I very much want to, right now.” He runs his hands over the stockings again. “That is, if you don’t mind?” Aziraphale questions.

“I haven’t got anything on for the rest of the evening, no, don’t mind at all.” Crowley swallows thickly.

“How about I go to the bedroom and put this on and I’ll call you in when I’m ready?” Aziraphale is already standing, clutching his present in his hands. 

Crowley’s heart is hammering in his chest, “Yeah!” he chokes out, he shakes his head and lowers his voice to a more suitable volume, “yeah, s’fine.” He watches Aziraphale go and then slumps on the couch, putting both his hands over his face. He focuses on his breathing, trying to do it less rapidly. He takes deep breaths and manages to calm himself down but then he imagines, well and truly imagines what Aziraphale might look like wearing his present, and he’s just as worse for wear. His heart starts beating furiously again and he can feel the blood pulsing into his hardening cock. He tries to preoccupy himself by scrolling through his phone and then by picking at threads on the couch. He eventually resigns himself to waiting with his eyes closed and his head tipped over the back of the couch.  
“Crowley!” Crowley stands from the couch so quickly he sees black for a moment as his human body struggles to adapt to the rapid position change. He walks briskly to the bedroom door, hesitates for a moment and knocks with two of his knuckles. “Alright if I come in?” he asks through the door.

“Please do!” comes Aziraphale’s eager voice, slightly muffled through the door. 

Crowley takes a deep, steadying breath and opens the door. That same breath is immediately knocked out of his lungs when he takes in the sight of Aziraphale. His angel looks resplendent standing in the middle of the room in the babiest of baby blue lingerie sets. Crowley’s never been good at articulating, but he could write books of poetry, he’d yank the words out of his skull, about how Aziraphale standing before him, looking like the most beautiful being ever created, had knocked the breath out of him. Aziraphale is pulling at the ruffle trim of the underwear poking out from beneath the garter belt, admiring it. Crowley wanders toward him on shaky legs. The blue of the lingerie complements Aziraphale’s white-sand skin in the most devastating way. When Crowley reaches him, he places a hand on his hip, feeling the suggestion of the bone there beneath the pad of flesh. He rubs the hem of the garter belt with his thumb, looking down adoringly at Aziraphale. 

“How do I look?” Aziraphale peers shyly up at him with eager, dark wash denim eyes through thick golden lashes. Crowley swallows and takes one of Aziraphale’s hand in his, interlacing their fingers. He touches his forehead to Aziraphale’s. “Like the angel the human are always banging on about in their writing and art.” 

Aziraphale looks pleased with this response. “Here, sit down, let me show you all of it.” Aziraphale grins at him and flutters his eyelashes as he pushes Crowley to sit on the edge of his bed. Aziraphale stands in front of him and struts to and fro, modeling for him. Crowley’s face heats and he props it in his hands with his elbows resting on his knees, absolutely enraptured. “Angel, you’re art. If I was a bloody painter, my entire life’s work would just be you in different lingerie.” 

Crowley lets him twist this way and that in front of him before Aziraphale comes to settle him self on Crowley’s lap, with both knees hanging over Crowley’s thighs and dangling off the bed. Crowley hums and snakes his arms around Aziraphale, pressing hot, languid kisses to his neck. 

“How do you feel?” He asks, dragging his lips up Aziraphale’s neck to his ear. 

Aziraphale shudders. “Well, I do feel rather like a present actually.” Aziraphale leans into Crowley’s lips. “A present I’d quite like for you to unwrap.” Aziraphale’s voice tilts up at the end, hopefully.  
Crowley growls lowly, Aziraphale can feel it in the vibration of his lips. 

“What are you in the mood for, angel?” Crowley tears his lips away from Aziraphale’s neck. He caresses Aziraphale’s thighs, kneading at the flesh and muscle. Crowley can see the bulge forming under the blue fabric of Aziraphale’s pants. Aziraphale dips his head into Crowley’s chest, groaning. Crowley revels at the silky stockings over his knees, at the soft fabric at his waist. Everything about this fits his angel perfectly, so Aziraphale, so tender, so soft. It’s his favorite thing about Aziraphale; all of the places Crowley is sharp edges and unyielding bone, Aziraphale is rounded and soft, plush flesh covering thick bands of muscle. Two halves of the same coin, together one complete picture.

“Mmmm, I want—ohhh,” Crowley’s found the patch of sensitive skin in the divot between Aziraphale’s shoulder and collarbone and has begun to mouth at it insistently. Crowley pauses, allowing Aziraphale to continue. “Will you be a bit rough with me? Kind of mean, tell me what to do?” Crowley nods, pupils growing the tiniest bit darker. “How much?” Crowley asks, lips moving against the skin of Aziraphale’s shoulder as he speaks. 

“Oh, 50%? Yes, that should be the ticket.” They do this kind of thing often, they’ve worked out a scale as a starting point for it. 25% means something along the lines of, bite me a little harder, pull my hair a little more while 100% usually requires props and preparation time to negotiate and plan so everyone knows what’s happening and agrees. Crowley’s the only one that asks for 100%, and they have a well-catalouged list of the things he likes and they both reap satisfaction from. 

“Let me know if it’s too much.” Crowley brushes a kiss to his shoulder. “Let me hear your safeword?”

“Apple,” Aziraphale cheerfully responds. They both remember their safewords of course, but it’s reassuring to hear it said. 

Crowley begins lapping at Aziraphale’s neck, finding his pulse and following its path down to the hollow of his throat. Crowley puts a hand in his hair and firmly pulls his head to the side, giving himself easier access, finding a patch of skin beneath the angel of Aziraphale’s jaw and sinking his teeth in. Aziraphale cries out, squeezing where he has his arms wrapped around Crowley’s shoulders. Crowley undoes the bow at the front of the camisole and slides the straps off of Aziraphale’s shoulders, kissing each one in turn. He pushes Aziraphale to stand up and hooks a finger under the hem of the pants, “Off.” He demands. “But only those, leave everything else on.” 

Aziraphale complies, standing before Crowley wearing just the stockings and garter, fat erection pulsing. Crowley slowly undresses himself, yanking his shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere on the floor. He divests himself of his trousers and then his pants. Aziraphale fixes his eyes on Crowley’s erection, biting his lip. 

Crowley smirks at him, taking himself in hand and giving himself two languid strokes, smearing the precome that’s bubbled at the tip across the shaft. Aziraphale licks his lips. “See something you like?”  
Aziraphale nods eagerly. Crowley scoots himself up on the bed. “Come here, use your mouth.” He gestures for Aziraphale to join him on the bed, “On all fours” he clarifies when Aziraphale kneels beside him. Aziraphale places one hand in between Crowley’s thighs and one on the outside and dips his head to wrap his lips around his cock. Crowley groans, low and deep, Aziraphale whines around Crowley’s cock. He tongues up and down the shaft a few times while Crowley massages Aziraphale’s thigh. Aziraphale takes more of Crowley into his mouth and begins to bob his head. Crowley moves his fingers up Aziraphale’s thigh and to the inside, playing with the skin under a plump buttock. 

Crowley snaps and miracles his fingers well-lubricated. He swirls a finger around Aziraphale’s hole and feels the angel moan around the cock in his mouth. Aziraphale moves his head up and down faster, encouraging. Crowley presses the finger in and Aziraphale stalls, moaning wantonly at the breach and driving his hips back into Crowley’s hand. Crowley uses his other hand to grab Aziraphale by the hair and move his head to resume it’s bobbing. Crowley pumps the finger inside of Aziraphale as he moves Aziraphale’s head up and down on his cock, groaning softly and closing his eyes to savor. Crowley adds a second finger and shoves Aziraphale’s head down further onto his cock, feeling the tightness of his throat and the moan that starts there travel all the way through his cock. Crowley pulls Aziraphale’s head off his cock to ask, “okay, angel? Color?” 

Aziraphale wipes a hand across his mouth and smiles at him, “Oh, perfect darling. Green” Crowley smiles and then forces his mouth back around his cock. Crowley thrusts into his mouth and Aziraphale makes small gurgling noises in his throat as he tries to moan around him. Crowley fucks his mouth for a few moments longer while pumping his fingers in and out of his ass in a steady rhythm. When Crowley starts feeling the tight ball in the pit of his stomach loosening, he pulls Aziraphale off of his cock and makes him lie across his thighs, keeping his fingers within him. Crowley adds a third finger and Aziraphale moans. Crowley slides his fingers in and out easily. He pushes them as deep as they’ll go and then rocks his hand back and forth and crooks his fingers, searching. He knows he’s found it when Aziraphale throws his head back and wails. Crowley stays on that spot, crooking and uncrooking his fingers while Aziraphale whimpers. 

“Look at you, so eager, such a pretty little thing.” Crowley resumes pumping his fingers in and out. He leans down to whisper in Aziraphale’s ear. “So welcoming, you take my fingers so nicely.”  
Crowley sits back up and removes his fingers slowly as he slicks his cock, hissing at the contact. “Let’s find out what else you can take, shall we?”

Crowley pulls Aziraphale back by his hips, positions him so he’s on his arms and knees. Crowley eases himself in, gasping as his length disappears into the angel’s body. Aziraphale produces an unbroken moan as Crowley pushes himself all the way in. Crowley grinds himself there, fully seated, once, twice, three times, rubbing against that bundle of frayed nerves inside Aziraphale. Aziraphale’s making short, choking sobs every time Crowley brushes that spot that sends little jolts of electricity through his body to meet in his swollen, leaking cock. 

Crowley begins to thrust slowly at first and then builds up speed until he’s ramming into Aziraphale, losing himself in a fog of lust and desire and how good it feels to buried deep in the angel, fucking him. Aziraphale slams his hand down on the bed, feeling Crowley pounding into him mercilessly. “Oh, fuck!” Crowley comes out of the haze he’s in when he hears the swearing, he grabs the hand Aziraphale had hit the bed with and wrenches it behind his back. Aziraphale moans with pleasure at the roughness of the act—Crowley knows how he enjoys being manhandled. Crowley slows his hips to a torturous undulating motion, grinding against Aziraphale where he’s seated deep inside of him. Aziraphale cants his hips back, chasing each grind of Crowley’s hips and making wet, desperate noises.  
Crowley takes the sight of him in appreciatively. He lets out a breath, “Look at you. An angel desperately trying to fuck himself on a demon’s cock.” Crowley punctuates his sentence with an undulation that has him sheathed fully within Aziraphale. He stops moving his hips, keeping himself bottomed out there. Aziraphale whines.  
Crowley spurs him on, continuing “You’re such a bad angel, aren’t you?” Aziraphale’s hips writhe, seeking more friction. Crowley twists Aziraphale’s arm higher behind his back as he pulls himself slowly out of Aziraphale to the tip of his cock before snapping his hips forward and reseating himself in a cruel, rapid motion. Aziraphale lets out a loud sob. Crowley leans over the angel’s back, sliding the palm of the hand not pinning Aziraphale’s arm up the glistening, sweaty skin to tangle roughly into the white-gold curls of his hair. He gives the handful of hair a tug, bringing his head up to meet him as Crowley leans further forward and close to his ear. Aziraphale had failed to answer his question.

“Aren’t you?” Aziraphale nods against the hand holding his head back by the hair. Crowley releases him and Aziraphale rests his face on the arm he’s using to support himself. 

“Mmmm, what was that, angel? I couldn’t hear you.” Crowley begins to grind his hips against Aziraphale again and he keens. 

“I—I’m a bad angel.” Azirphale tries to pull his hips forward to get a better angle to impale himself on the cock within him. Crowley pulls all the way out and there’s a resounding SMACK after Crowley makes contact with the sensitive skin of his right buttock with the open palm of his hand. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale cries out. “I’m positively beastly!” Aziraphale pauses to breath heavily, Crowley can see the air entering and leaving the angel’s body from the rise and fall of his back, heaving with the effort of the breaths he technically doesn’t need. He admires the dampness growing at the hem of the garter, and the obscene stretch of the stockings around Aziraphale’s lovely thighs. Crowley smacks him again, in the same place, hard. Aziraphale lets out another loud cry. “Oh, I’m the worst, I’m the worst angel.” Crowley smiles to himself, knowing how much Aziraphale is enjoying this. He’s having quite a bit of fun, too. 

Crowley takes his cock in his free hand and rubs the head of it against Aziraphale’s hole, teasing, menacing. Crowley watches as he clenches helplessly around nothing. “Tell me how desperate you are for it, and maybe I’ll give it to you.” Crowley works very hard to keep his tone unaffected, acting like he could simply decide he was no longer interested in fucking the angel senseless and that he could walk away, disinterested, if Aziraphale didn’t convince him otherwise.

“Oh, please, please.” Aziraphale implores. 

“Please, what?” Crowley continues to rub the head of his cock against Aziraphale, leaking precome. 

“Please, fuck me.” Crowley lets the tip of his cock slide in the smallest bit. “Hmunghh, oh please—fuck me, ravage me with your cock. I’m so terrible, so bad!” Crowley sinks in another inch. “I’m the worst angel, I need to be used, use me.” Crowley kneads the skin of Aziraphale’s right buttock, reddening from where he’d been spanked moments ago. “You have my attention, angel.”  
“Take me, fuck me until you come inside me, I want to feel you come inside me. Please come inside me. I want it, I want your cock. Split me open with your cock—” Aziraphale’s stream of begging is cut off by Crowley thrusting all the way in. Crowley takes the hand Aziraphale had been using to support himself and puts it behind his back, pinned with the other one. Crowley shoves Aziraphale’s face into the duvet so that it’s turned to one side and he’s resting on the bed with his face down and his arse in the air, both hands pinned behind his back by Crowley. 

Crowley begins thrusting and Azirphale moans beneath him. “Do you think I can make you regret that?” Crowley snaps his hips. “Regret asking me to fuck you until I come?” Crowley speeds up the thrusting of his hips, pounding, pulling the angel back by his pinned arms to meet him on every thrust. Aziraphale cries out beneath him, “Oh, Crowley! Yes, yes! Harder!” 

Crowley grunts and does as he’s bade, listening the chorus comprised of the obscene sound of skin smacking against skin, Crowley’s heavy gasping breaths, and Aziraphale’s wanton cries.  
“Oh, Crowley, oh dear, oh that feels—just, remarkable.” Aziraphale’s fists clench and unclench where they’re being held together by Crowley. “I’m, I’m getting—”

Crowley understands and lifts Aziraphale from his face down position on the bed so that he’s on his knees in front of Crowley, with his back against Crowley’s chest. They slide together, wet with sweat and the effort of this act. Crowley keeps hold of Aziraphale’s hands in one of his and reaches around for the angel’s cock with the other. Crowley keeps pace with quick thrusts as he strokes Aziraphale’s cock in time with the snap of his hips. Aziraphale cries out his orgasm, ropes of warm come streak Crowley’s hand as he strokes him through it. Aziraphale clenches around him and Crowley moans desperately, biting into his shoulder, feeling his own pleasure rising white and hot through his body. Aziraphale shudders and cants his hips backwards eager for Crowley to finish. Crowley thrusts a few more times and he’s over the edge, coming with his teeth sunk into the angel’s shoulder and a loud groan. He lets the waves wash over him and he basks in them for a few moments before carefully pulling his softening cock free of the angel’s body. 

Aziraphale falls forward on the bed, looking flushed and happily spent. Crowley snaps his fingers and rids them of the mess, before crawling over Aziraphale and planting a kiss on his forehead. Aziraphale closes his eyes and sighs contentedly. He opens them again and pulls Crowley down into a gentle kiss. They move their lips against each other lazily, smiling against the press of the other’s lips. Crowley moves to lie on his side, placing an arm over Aziraphale’s stomach and propping himself up on an elbow. He presses a kiss to Aziraphale’s nose. 

“How was that?”

Aziraphale giggles, giddy, “Oh it was just wonderful. Did you enjoy yourself?”

Crowley tuns onto his back, pulling Aziraphale so that he’s tucked into his side. “I’ll tell you what, I’m gonna have to buy you s’more lingerie, for a start.” They both laugh, agreeing.  
“I love you, dear” Aziraphale says, stroking Crowley’s cheek.  
“I love you, too, angel.”

Aziraphale yawns. “I’m positively spent, I feel tingly all over, and….tired, in the best way.” He closes his eyes and snuggles closer to Crowley. “Think I might take a nap, actually.”  
Crowley kisses the top of his head and watches as he drifts off, not far behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, friends! I was super nervous posting this actually. This is my first smut work and also my first work for this fandom and this pairing, I hope I did alright by it! Thanks for reading :


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